


Endings are also beginnings

by StarrySkies282



Series: Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love [18]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cute, Domestic, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Sort of drabble format idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24859501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrySkies282/pseuds/StarrySkies282
Summary: It’s so incredibly easy to fall into a new routine. Natasha would wake in the middle of the night, Wanda would rise early for the morning feed. Days and nights centred around Nadia; neither Wanda nor Natasha would have it any other way.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Series: Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424389
Comments: 9
Kudos: 78





	Endings are also beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It’s been a journey. This is the final piece in this series and I’d just like to thank you all for reading my work and being supportive, honestly, it means so much. I really hope that this ending is satisfying for you all. Enjoy x

It’s so incredibly easy to fall into a new routine. Natasha would wake in the middle of the night, Wanda would rise early for the morning feed. Days and nights centred around Nadia; neither Wanda nor Natasha would have it any other way.

Wanda wakes early to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window and Nadia babbling away in her crib. Beside her, Natasha lies, asleep, cocooned in the blankets and looking so small and vulnerable. Not at all like the much-feared assassin she was.

“Come on,” she says softly, scooping little Nadia out of her crib, “let’s let mama sleep, hmm?”  
Despite the sunlight, the mornings are cold and Wanda places Nadia in her bouncer, tucking her up safe in an extra blanket.  
“You must be hungry,” Wanda coos, getting a bottle ready, and in response, Nadia waves a fist, staring with those big wide eyes Wanda just can’t get enough of.

Bottle warmed and tested, Wanda settles herself on the couch, Nadia in her arms, humming a Sokovian lullaby she remembered her mother singing when her and Pietro were younger. There aren’t many things from her old life to share, but she’s glad she can share at least that with Nadia.

“Morning,” mumbles Natasha stumbling into the room, hair still mussed from sleep.  
“How come you’re up?”  
“Bed was cold,” Natasha yawns, and it’s a wonder her head doesn’t split in two.  
“Did you keep mama up last night?” Wanda asks Nadia softly, who continues drinking the milk, oblivious, her tiny hand over Wanda’s holding the bottle steady.  
“A little,” smiles Natasha. It’s no trouble though. She didn’t really see it as a chore, something to complain about. How could it be? “How ‘bout some breakfast?”  
“I can do it.”  
“Well it seems you’re a bit busy right now,” counters Natasha placing a kiss to Wanda’s forehead and moving to put the kettle on.

She’s just setting about preparing scrambled eggs when a black and white fur ball comes slinking in, brushing itself insistently against Natasha’s leg.  
“We haven’t forgotten about you, Fury,” she laughs, placing out a bowl of food for the kitten, who purrs appreciatively.

//

Admittedly, it’s not all plain-sailing. There’s a night not long after they first bring Nadia home, when Natasha wakes from the nightmare. It’s the same foundations of her usual ones, where she’s transported back to the Red Room. It diverges from there.

_They’ve given her a target, her next mark._

_She’s led into a darkened room, gun in hand_

_“Finish this,” she hears a voice whisper before the door click shut_

_Each step forward, she knows what’s coming._

_Gun poised, at the ready._

_Any second now._

_And then she sees the target._

_Wanda._

_And what’s that? The bundle in her arms_

_It’s—_

Oh god oh god oh god.

Natasha wakes with a start, blinking wildly in the gloom, trying to clear the image from her mind, breathing erratic, heart threatening to burst forth from her ribcage.

What if she’d—

No, no, no, don’t think about it.

She fumbles in the dark, hands closing around the cold metal in the bedside drawer. The one thing that would at least assure she didn’t hurt anyone.

It’s then though, that the lamp flicks on, and Wanda is sitting up beside her.

“Natasha? What are you doing?” Her eyes fall on the handcuffs, all trace of sleep falling from her voice.  
“I don’t want to hurt you. Or Nadia,” she gasps out, every breath laboured.  
“Nightmare again?”  
Natasha nods.  
“I was back in the Red Room. They gave me a target.”  
Wanda thinks she knows who the ‘target’ was. She shifts over, pulling Natasha close to her.  
“You’re here now, you’re safe. We’re safe,” Wanda whispers, giving her the words she knows she needs to hear. Most importantly, the truth.  
“But what if I _do_ hurt you?”  
“Natasha, you have _never_ hurt me. Ever. And you would never hurt Nadia.”  
She sits there awhile, soothing her, grounding her, telling her truths and reassurances, bringing her back to light.  
Nadia is safe, asleep. And that is what is important.

//

“Well that was Clint,” Natasha says, one morning, hanging up the phone.  
“What did he say?” Asks Wanda, looking up from her book. They’re trying to be extra quiet: Nadia has just gone down for a nap and it had taken ages to get her to sleep. It’s been like that for the past couple of weeks.  
“He says he’s coming over this afternoon. And he’s bringing Laura and the kids.”  
It’s a welcome surprise. They haven’t really been out much or seen anyone, what with being busy with Nadia.

“Apparently the kids are dying to see their new _cousin_.” Those words feel new in Natasha’s mouth, untested and frankly strange to say out loud. But they have her grinning like anything all the same.  
“Well then I guess we’re going to have to rustle up some food,” Wanda says firmly, putting down her book.

True to his word, Clint arrives shortly after three.  
Bringing with him, it seems, the entire Barton nursery boxed up.  
“Just a few things,” Laura tells them.  
It’s certainly a lot more than ‘a few’.

“You’ve got your work cut out with this one, Nat,” says Clint wisely over a cup of coffee as he eyes Nadia in her bouncer, sucking on the ear of her stuffed rabbit.  
He thinks himself to be some kind of expert on babies. Laura believes otherwise.  
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage,” grins Wanda, placing a plate of cookies on the coffee table and an arm around Natasha.

“Nate, be careful,” scolds Laura, seeing the youngest Barton trip over the rug in his haste to show off the new picture he had drawn. It features a small blob, which he proudly proclaims to be Nadia. Or, in his toddler-speak, “Nada.”  
“It’s lovely, Nate,” Wanda says softly, obliging him by putting it up on the fridge, amongst the grocery lists, photographs and the other pictures Nate had drawn them.  
Nate basks in the praise and takes a cookie Natasha offers him, settling down contentedly next to his mother.

Meanwhile, Lila and Cooper introduce Nadia to the new stuffed toys they had bought, making up elaborate stories. Nadia babbles contentedly, giggling as the fur of the stuffed giraffe tickles her cheek.

Natasha looks on at the scene before her. It’s painfully domestic, but there’s a contentment rising within her. This is her life now, unfolding right there before her. She’d never really given much thought to her future. Before Wanda, it had been her current mission, or planning the next one.  
Things are different now. Her future is here, she can see the shape of it, a glimpse of it. In Wanda and Nadia.

//

It seems, with babies, there are always visits. Not long after Clint, Steve, Sam and Tony are angling to come over.  
“You can’t keep us away forever,” jokes Tony at the door.  
“As long as you don’t corrupt my kid.” The threat is left dangling there, mixed with the hint of a smile, but she lets him in anyway.  
“I make no promises, Romanoff,” the billionaire returns, sauntering in, followed closely by Steve and Sam  
“So _this_ is the little Nadia we’ve heard so much about,” Tony says, grinning at Nadia in Wanda’s arms, producing a red gift bag. Natasha notices Sam and Steve do the same.  
Again with the gifts.  
“You didn’t have to, you know,” Natasha says, but she’s touched, really, that the others are so willing to accept Nadia into the family.  
“We kinda did,” says Sam, moving to sit.  
“No, _me_ first,” Tony says gleefully, presenting the gift bag to Wanda. Because _obviously_ Nadia couldn’t open it herself.

Wanda opens it, and Natasha is a little wary.  
(It _is_ Tony we’re talking about after all, she justifies to herself)  
It’s a onesie, all in red, with over-exuberant gold lettering claiming ‘Iron Man is my favourite superhero’ written across the front.  
Wanda snorts and Natasha rolls her eyes.  
They should have expected something like this.  
“And that’s not all” Tony proclaims grandly. “I’m designing a completely safe, indestructible car seat, so at least your baby will be safe from your reckless driving.” The last part is directed at Natasha, who glares, and Wanda stifles a laugh.  
“He’s not wrong, Nat,” puts in Sam, and he gets a withering look in return.

Before things can escalate, Steve reveals a woollen hat, with two bobbles made to look like ears, in a colour that can only be described as candy floss.  
Wanda has to admit, it is quite adorable. “That’ll be great for winter,” she says.  
“That’s what I was thinking too,” smiles Steve as he show her a matching set of mittens.  
Natasha eyes them, slightly surprised Steve had firstly managed to find something that didn’t look like it dated back to the 50s and secondly that actually _matched_.  
Steve catches the look.  
“I picked them out myself,” he says proudly.  
“There’s a first.”  
“You know what, Romanoff.”  
“It’s okay Steve, you’ve got great style,” offers Tony, giving the super soldier a conciliatory pat on the shoulder as Sam opens up his blue gift bag.

It’s a plushie. One of those ones specifically designed for small babies. A large, velvety-soft, blue-grey elephant that Natasha just knows little Nadia will love.  
Sure enough, as she places it within Nadia’s reach, the infant grabs it with tiny hands as if to show her appreciation.  
“She loves it, don’t you,” coos Wanda as Natasha looks on fondly.

“She’s going to grow up to be strong and smart and brave and compassionate just like her mothers,” informs Steve nobly in the silence that follows.  
“Aww, Steve,” Natasha bumps him with her shoulder.

“No, really, I’m serious.”

//

The days slip by like beads on a string, fading into weeks.  
It’s towards the end of summer and Natasha is back from a grocery run.  
Nadia’s had a cold, and Wanda is exhausted from being up with her. They both are, but Natasha is faring just a _little_ better.  
These days, it seems majority of their shop contains diapers, and God do babies go through a lot of them. She hadn’t really noticed with Lila and Nate, but Nadia, that was a _whole_ other story.  
Putting the grocery bags down and tossing her keys onto the kitchen worktop, whatever Natasha had thought she’d come back to, it’s not this.

Curled up on the sofa is Wanda, and on top of her, safely nestled in her mother’s arms, also fast asleep is Nadia. They’re both worn out.  
Her footsteps noiseless, Natasha moves closer, noticing the way Nadia’s fist is tangled in Wanda’s hair, how safe she looks in her girlfriend’s arms. She’s grown in the past month or so, but she was still so small. Next to her delicate features, Natasha sometimes felt like a giant when she held her. How fragile she looked.

Smiling idiotically, careful not to disturb anything, Natasha quickly snaps a photo of the two girls who own her heart. It’s too adorable not to.

//

Wanda is working on dinner, chopping vegetables for a stir fry while Natasha (against her will, it may be noted) lies on the sofa, ordered to rest after returning from a mission, Wanda deeming her unfit to stand.  
(In Natasha’s defence, it’s not that bad. A couple of bruised ribs, maybe, a slight ankle sprain, yes, but nothing that warrants being bedridden. Or rather sofaridden, in her case).

Nadia had been in her swinging chair, fast asleep, so Wanda figured it wouldn’t be too much trouble for Natasha to watch her.

There’d been silence for a while, the two supposedly both resting when Natasha shouts out:  
“Wanda!”

Wanda looks up, worry in her eyes, because with Natasha you never _could_ be sure.  
She hurries over to the sofa and stops short, staring at the sight she’s met with.  
Natasha is propped up on pillows against the sofa arm, her knees pulled up, Nadia leaning against them as Natasha supports her, tiny feet pressed into her stomach.  
“She’s smiling!” Natasha declares, looking up at Wanda with an ever-widening grin on her face, obvious joy in her voice.

“She is not,” Wanda says in disbelief, moving round the other side of the sofa and kneeling down next to the two, eyeing Nadia carefully.

Natasha had probably taken too much pain medication.

“You gonna smile for mommy?” Natasha asks, touching her lightly on the nose.  
“She really smiled! She _did_ ,” protests the redhead, looking up into Wanda’s bright blue eyes.  
“Natasha, you’re probably just tired.”  
“I am not!” Comes the response, indignantly. “So you’re not going to smile now your mommy’s watching, huh? You little rascal.”

As if responding to Natasha’s voice, Nadia’s mouth stretches, lips pulling into a gummy, albeit rather sloppy smile.

“ _See_?” She says triumphantly, beaming up at Wanda. Well done, solnyshko,” she praises lovingly, and Wanda’s heart swells at the scene before her. It may well be the most adorable baby smile she’s ever seen.

//

It’s late September and the weather is just turning, the leaves outside beginning to brown. Soon the hues of amber and orange will be widespread and the leaves will fall.

The smell of cinnamon buns baking in the oven fills the tiny apartment as Natasha sits at her desk, going over case files for Steve. She’s adapting to working from home, so at least her or Wanda is available for Nadia.  
Fury is purring contentedly from the sofa, atop one of Laura’s embroidered cushions. Nadia is safe, asleep in her crib in the next room. Soft, quiet, classical music plays in the background because yes, Natasha may be the Black Widow but she still has _taste_.  
Vanilla scented candles burn, reminding her of that trip to Ikea when they first moved in. It seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since then.  
Natasha puts down her pen, looking wistfully out of the window, to where she sees Wanda’s potted plants in the window box. Geraniums. Strawberries. Lilies and lavender. She knew Wanda planned to start growing herbs and vegetables out on the balcony in the spring.  
It will be nice, to use what they grow. Already, they’ve enjoyed strawberries this season. Next year, Natasha thinks, when they’ve got tomatoes and lettuce and courgettes, they’ll be able to enjoy them with Nadia as well.

That thought is comforting: a future she never thought she’d have. It’s funny how much things can change.

Her phone buzzes. It’s Wanda.  
_On my way home_  
She smiles.  
_Be safe_ , she replies.

Light falls on a framed photo, one of many dotted around the apartment. There’s not really anything remarkable about the photo in particular. It’s her and Wanda with Nadia. It’s more the feeling behind the photo. The memory that comes with it. One of the hot summer days, when Nadia had been restless. They’d set up her baby bath in the living room, in an attempt to cool her down. Unfortunately for the two of them, Nadia had recently discovered splashing and the result was they had all ended up _soaked_.

There were good days, and bad. And everything in between. Natasha may not be sure what’s around the corner for them, but what she does know is that she wouldn’t trade her little family for _anything_.

A while back, she would have scorned love, laughed derisively, said “heaven help a fool who falls in love.” Because love was for children, not for her. Emotions? Well those she would have scorned; used them only as a tool for information.

Now though, she knows better, as she sits in the fading beginning-of-fall light, room illuminated by lamplight and the rosy glow of candles, basking in the knowledge that yes, Wanda will be home soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you so much for your support! I really hope you’ve enjoyed reading this series as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I’m hoping soon (not sure when!) I’ll be back with more wanda/nat fics— I have a ton of ideas I’d like to try out! Until then, thanks for reading and stay safe! Xx


End file.
